


How Far From The Gutter

by ialpiriel, meanoldauthor



Series: Shadows Get Long [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: AU of an AU, Alternate Universe, Backstory, Caesar's Legion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ialpiriel/pseuds/ialpiriel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanoldauthor/pseuds/meanoldauthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a shameless AU of an AU where i borrowed a friend's courier, and took my courier's post-game shenanigans, and mashed it all together. shameless and entirely for fun (its not actually fun, they hate each other).</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Far From The Gutter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meanoldauthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanoldauthor/gifts).



> "Walker" in this fic has been jokingly called 'not-Adal' through the entire writing process. Adal is probably my favorite courier ever, and while not everything is on ao3, what there is can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/271789).
> 
> This fic would take place post-game, in the timeline of another fic I'm writing.

Walker’s down next to the fire, shoulders hunched up. Lucinda drops onto the ground at quarter-angles to her, keeps Walker in her peripheral vision.

They’re both quiet a long minute.

“How the hell can you support them?” Walker croaks out. The others go quiet, turn away to pretend to give privacy. “You’ve seen what they do.”

Lucinda snorts.

“And what’s my other option? Go home to Dog Town and have cute little Legion babies?” she pauses. “That what you’d rather be doing? Be back on supply line, carry loads until your feet bleed?”

“Could fight back, there,” Walker growls. “Legion is built on our backs, they couldn’t hold us if we fought. You won the Mojave. You have power. Use it.”

Lucinda snorts again.

“Fight with what? You ever punched someone carrying a machete? You try that, tell me what your guts feel like hitting the ground. Fight all you want.”

“I have. Fought when they took us. Fought ‘til I near died, you wanna see the scars?” Walker shrugs off her jacket, rolls her shoulders.

“Shit, you think you’re the only one who fought back? Look where we are, We all end up here eventually. You need to see my scars too?” Lucinda pulls off her scar, tugs down the collar of her shirt to show the top of her burn scar.

“So they whipped you? Burned you? And you just fold? Give in?”

Lucinda looks away.

“Goes faster if you do.”

Walker snorts. “Ain’t rushin’ to die.” Bulls her shoulders bigger, stares back at Lucinda. “That’s all you do. Kill for jack shit, kill for an army that’s gonna run outta people to kill.” Leans in, shifts her stance.

Lucinda throws her head back and laughs, leans forward so she’s skirting into Walker’s space.

“You talking about the rest of us, Walker? Rest of us who have to make a living here? Rest of us who have to try to not get hung up on a cross like the rest of our tribes?” Lucinda bares her teeth, and Walker’s eyes go wide as her brows draw down. “If you're going to whine I can send you--”

Walker is off her ass in a moment, swinging for Lucinda’s face. Her fist connects with a sick _crack_ , sends Lucinda sprawling back. 

The others are on their feet in a moment, rushing to haul them off each other. Twist drags Walker back, keeps one arm around her chest. Tooth holds lucinda back.

“If that’s what your tribe taught you, no wonder the Legion wanted you,” Lucinda spits. Spits blood after it.

Walker struggles in Twist’s grip; Twist tightens her arm.

‘You think you're the only one whose tribe got swallowed?” Lucinda growls.

“At least I fought back,” Walker yells. “Didn’t _let_ them have me.”

“You gonna tell a thirteen year old to kill a legionary?” Lucy spits blood again, off to her side. “At least you were an adult. Did your kids fight too? Did they kill a legionary?”

“Don’t you dare,” Walker spits, nearly drags Twist off her feet. “Don’t you dare drag my boys into this, you fucking snake.”

“Don’t tell me I laid down easy for the Legion. Put me where your boys stood. Let them watch legionaries gut their mother and laugh while the rest of your tribe tries not to scream.”

Their eyes are wide, watch each other as their chests heave. There's a trickle of blood running down Lucinda's face.

“Don’t you act like you're better because you fought and lived. Fighting them just gets you here, with me. Not anywhere you want to be.” Lucinda spits another mouthful of blood. “Let me go, Tooth. I’m done.”

***

“Oy, Walker,” Lucinda calls. Walker looks up, narrows her eyes. Lucinda tosses a trail carbine to her. “Need dinner. You’re good at hunting. Bring back enough to feed us all. Take whoever you want. Whoever you need to help you.”

Walker turns the gun in her hand. Aims out of camp, settles it against her shoulder. A good gun. Unloaded, now. Lucinda tosses a shabby cardboard box of ammunition.

“So dinner won’t go anywhere,” she says. “We’ll be camped here for three days, would like dinner tonight if you can swing it. Will settle for the morning too, if that’s what it takes. You come back after I’m asleep, you wake me up and I’ll help you butcher it.”

Walker gives her a considering look, hand tight on the gun. Seems to decide better and nods, shoulders her gun, pockets her ammunition.

***

It’s after dark when she comes back, the rest of them griping and stomachs growling at the wait. Lucinda stands at the edge of camp, her back to the fire to keep her night vision, spots a figure approaching.

Walker doesn’t look up until she’s in arms reach, a bare glance. Lucinda takes the scrawny gecko carcass over her shoulder, looks down at Walker’s hands as she holds out the carbine. 

“Keep it,” she says. “Your gun now.”

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s yours.” she repeats, turns back toward the camp. “Keep it.”

“I don’t want it!” Walker repeats, bares her teeth.

Lucinda looks over her shoulder. Walker raises it again, stock first. Her jaw is set hard, not able to look Lucinda in the eye. 

“If you follow me, you carry it. It’s yours now. Not mine.”

Two steps, three, before she hears Walker follow behind.


End file.
